


The Stranger

by RAW_SYNTH3TICA



Category: The Lone Ranger (2013)
Genre: Angst, Dream Sex, Hurt No Comfort, Invasion, M/M, Male Slash, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 08:34:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8837734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RAW_SYNTH3TICA/pseuds/RAW_SYNTH3TICA
Summary: John goes on a nighttime stroll with a local woman, he can't bring himself to forget the mysterious voice that whispered to him in his dreams or the soft touches that he had to rudely awake from. *Invasion-kink will be explained in beginning Notes





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reader4books](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reader4books/gifts).



> ALL IS FICTIONAL & NOT MINE.
> 
> well, i know that this isn't 'Invasion', but it sorta is....so lemme explain: 
> 
> in some tribes (i won't claim to know which ones) there is a phenomena where a man (sometimes a woman) will lust after a person so much that they will walk into the person's dream & seduce them, or "Steal them from their lover". it Might be witchcraft (because it serves no helpful purpose other than to fulfil a sexual desire & enact it upon a usually-unwilling/unknowing participant), but it also might be a positive ability.... :P

“ _Don't open your eyes...” the mysterious voice is low, smooth, deep and reassuring – almost comforting as the sound wraps around John's ears, he lays unmoving upon his back like always in the previous dreams before which begin the exact same way, the quilt pulled up tight to his chin and tucked at his feet, “Don't open your eyes...”_

“...and that's why we moved here to Texas,” John's date breaks through his thoughts with her voice, she looks to him for a nod or a smile as they both stride along the mercantile, seeing no sign of interest, she presses on his arm which she has looped through his, “John, I have a feeling that you're preoccupied with something else.”

_The voice echoed to his right as always,_ _“_ _Kee-mo-sabe...”_

“Oh, I-” he fumbled his words and her comforting hand as she laid it on his arm, he pulled his mind away from the vivid dream that plagued him since moving to Texas, “I was just so engrossed with your story. Please continue.”

Skeptically, her eyebrow rose, but she turned her gaze to the sprawling town which stretched westward, she continued half-heartedly, “Well-”

_Usually, if John obeys the voice, there is a pause where the voice takes on physical form in the shape of a gentle hand brushing gently down his cheek, along his chin, and like always, he cannot keep himself quiet as the hand rests on his throat, and a soft press of moist lips against his chin,_ _“_ _Kee-mo-sabe...”_

“John Reid, where are you going?” the woman's voice once more yanked him from his musings, he looked to his right and felt the absence of her arm which was once hung unto his own, glancing behind, he found her tapping her foot and arms crossed over her chest expectantly.

Quickly searching for a plausible lie, John shrugged sheepishly and asked, “Isn't the social this way?”

“We're here already, ain't we?” her reply came tense with agitation, she pointed across the dirt roadway to a festive gathering before the church, neither the potluck nor the dancing held John's attention as strongly as his remembered dream:

_The hand would become two, one reaching beneath his quilt and the other holding his head at his nape, the lips would whisper against his bare collarbone_ _, “_ _So beautiful...”_

Dumbfounded, John shook his head and unconsciously shuddered from the warmth blooming upon his cheeks, he could nearly feel the lips journey down his adam's apple as he swallowed and asked, “Sorry, what was I thinking?”

_Lips upon his chest, he would press himself to the face just hovering above his body, his eyes would conjure up a masculine image of a handsome stranger having their way with him, and the handsome stranger would say so dejectedly_ _, “_ _Stay with me, Kee-mo-sabe...”_

“Uh, John?” his spine straightened at the sight of blue eyes peering at him through the light of hanging lanterns, she appeared moreover annoyed than enjoying his company, she said, “It'd look real strange for me to ask you to dance.”

John gulped down the last of the festive punch and put down his platter of finger foods, he asked unsure of her name, “Would you like to dance...-?”

“Lorna, my name's Lorna,” she threw up her hands in defeat.

“Would you like to dance, Lorna?” John held his arm up, offering himself to her as she retied her bonnet tightly about her neck.

_Usually, John never answers the plea of the stranger, he tries to move his mouth and tongue, tries his hardest to make a word of approval, and like clockwork, all he can do is moan as the stranger's hand closes around his hardness_ _, “_ _We can be happy. Always...”_

“No, John!” Lorna hissed, her small foot stomping once to the unenthusiastic dismay of John, she quietly whines to keep her words from reaching others, “I'm sorry, but I can't do this any more.”

“Lorna...-?” John reached for her shoulders, she pulled away, recoiling from his touch and looking as vulnerable as she sounded.

“We've done this how many times, John?” she asked, John remembered vaguely of the half-dozen outings with Lorna within the past month, and yet could not bring himself to fully commit to her though she was a nice enough woman, “It's like I'm not even here and someone else is occupying your mind.”

“ _Keep your eyes closed...Kee-mo-sabe...”_ _the stranger would instruct him, if John had made it through the dream thus far, he would know that waking was not too far behind – the lips latch unto his collarbone, sucking, the wet tongue flicking over his skin, the hand begins a quick unrelenting rhythm on his cock, squeezing and sliding in quick succession, his body bucks beneath the stranger, his gasps becoming desperate whimpers_ _, “Give yourself to me...Stop fighting me...”_

“John!” Lorna snapped at him, her shorter height almost illustrates her temper.

“Lorna,” John shook his head, his exhaustion outweighed by his confusion, he nodded, “Good luck, you deserve better treatment.”

“John-” Lorna sighed, she said just before leaving him to his self-imposed loneliness, “Wake up and stop sleepwalking.”

“ _One day, I will find you...” the stranger whispers, the soft lips sucking the skin of his collarbones and right shoulder – John can no longer hold himself back, he releases spurt after spurt of his seed, coating the stranger's forearm and wrist as a vow is spoken, “One day, Kee-mo-sabe, you won't resist...”_

As always, John pulled himself from bed, his quilt tangled around his legs and his sleeping pants damp with cum, finding new marks upon his shoulder, he thinks to himself what he never has the strength to say in his dream, “I surrender.”

**Author's Note:**

> :P quickly done, as you can see...


End file.
